


Transformers Secret Santa 2017

by ChillsofFire



Series: Transformers Secret Santa Exchange [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Positive Reinforcement Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 04:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13403955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillsofFire/pseuds/ChillsofFire
Summary: I was mechbreaker's secret santa for the exchange this year! I was inspired by their request for Prowl, and tried to blend a few themes together.This was my first time writing for these characters, so it was a fun little learning experience!





	Transformers Secret Santa 2017

_Tumbler was laughing, his mask removed and resting on a table so his rarely displayed denta could gleam in the city lights. His optical visor shone brightly in a bold display of his joy. They sat together on a balcony, high above most of the city’s towers, sipping cubes of visco. The night was peaceful; there was no sense of urgency, no jobs or responsibilities prodding at the back of Prowl’s mind. He was relaxed, utterly content, and when he shifted his servo on the railing, digits brushing against Tumbler’s, he soon found it being held, their digits interlocking without a word needing to be spoken._

_“That was some amazing work today, Prowl,” Tumbler turned toward him, smiling warmly, “I don’t think anyone but you could have solved that case.”_

_“It helped to have you with me,” Prowl smiled back, humble even as he basked in his partner’s praise._

_“You did all the work,” Tumbler waved off the comment, moving closer as his voice became more insistent, “You’re gifted, Prowl. How the force got along without you before, I’ll never know. No one else could have made those connections.”_

_“You’re flattering me,” Prowl took a sip from his cube to mask his growing smile._

_“I’m serious!” Tumbler squeezed his servo, “You’re a hero, Prowl, a role model for young enforcers. Someday everyone will know your name, will know that you-“_

_“-were right, Prowl,” Optimus turned away from the balcony view, away from the rebuilt city, the brilliant sunlight that seemed to gleam off of every surface. It was like the war had never happened. Like it had all been a nightmare, soon to be forgotten. “I should have seen it earlier.”_

_“Thank you, Optimus,” Prowl held himself tall, almost at attention, and fought the urge to smirk. Of course he had been right._

_“The Decepticons are gone, Megatron is defeated, Cybertron is safe and finally at peace,” Optimus moved toward him, “Your hard work and dedication will forever be remembered. I will personally ensure that your name is placed in our historical records, for all Cybertronians, present and future, to see. You deserve it Prowl. I,_ we _, never-“_

_“-could have done it without you,” Mesothulas squeezed his shoulder, his voice a low murmur as he leaned close to Prowl’s audio receiver. “Look at him, Prowl, he’s_ perfect.”

_Prowl inhaled through his vents, optics still roaming over the scientist’s newest creation._

_Life. New life. Not from Primus, not from a spark plucked from a hot spot, not cold constructed, but created. Synthetic, artificial life._

_“I call him Ostaros,” Mesothulas’ voice was filled with awe, as if even he could not believe what he had made._

_“How did you do it?” Prowl’s voice was just as soft._

_“Science can work miracles, if left in the right hands,” Mesothulas stepped away, toward Ostaros, admiring the created mech for a moment before turning back to Prowl. “It’s all thanks to you. I’ve always had plans, ideas, oh so many ideas, but the things I’ve come up with for you,_ because _of you…” he let out delighted sigh, his field thick with joy and excitement, and reached out to take Prowl’s servos in his own._

_“You’re my muse, Prowl. Every idea you bring to me spins off into dozens more, every desire you have feeds my imagination.” Mesothulas stepped close, holding his servo’s tenderly, “If everyone knew what you’ve done for them, for Cybertron, they’d-“_

_“Tear my spark from my chest,” Prowl finished for him quickly, “none of them would understand that it was necessary, that it all had to be done. Optimus, Tum-…Chromedome, none of them-“_

_“None of them appreciate the way your mind works,” Mesothulas interrupted, squeezing his servos, “but they will. One day. They’ll all see what I see in you.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Prowl’s. The action caught Prowl off guard, but it was kind, and the field now playing against his was full of awe and admiration, and he found himself relaxing into it, squeezing the servos that held his own._

_“Thank you…”_

_Mesothulas laughed, “Thank_ you, _Prowl. I’ve never been so pleased with my work. And until the others learn to see you properly, I’ll be here. Now,” his voice took on a different tone; richer, almost seductive, and Prowl could not help the pleasant shiver that ran down his spinal strut as Mesothulas murmured, “let me show you how much I appreciate you…”_

Tarantulas hummed quietly to himself as he gently, but quickly, wrapped his webbing around Prowl. Snug, but not too tight. He adjusted the Autobot’s limbs so that they would be comfortable; not cramped, not held at uncomfortable angles. It wouldn’t do to have Prowl in pain. No. That wasn’t the point of this.

Prowl shifted slightly, and Tarantulas paused his work to let him resettle. Whatever he was seeing, it was obviously pleasing, if the smile and relaxed joy in his field was anything to go by.

But of course it was pleasing. That was the point of the positive reinforcement prison after all.

Prowl stilled again, and Tarantulas continued to weave his web around him, cradling his head carefully as he moved to secure his doorwings. He had missed being so close to the enforcer.

He was just finishing securing his _guest_ when Prowl spoke; his voice a sleepy whisper, the word almost inaudible. But Tarantulas had always listened when Prowl spoke.

“Mesothulas…”

Tarantulas felt a surge of desire wash over him. Oh, _oh_ , to hear Prowl say his name like that once more…

He paused before securing Prowl to the rest of the web, allowing himself a moment to hold his former partner in his arms, cradled to his chest again. It had been so long…

 _Soon,_ Tarantulas thought, watching the relaxed expression on Prowl’s face, those silver lip plates twitching up into a small smile again, _soon we’ll be together again. I have some questions for you Prowl, but once I had my answers, we can return to the way things were. You and me, together again…_

His servos were tender as he placed Prowl carefully in his web, suspending him from sturdy lines so he would not fall. He began to hum again.

And Prowl slept on, mind bouncing from place to place, bot to bot, but always returning to those happier thoughts.

Tumbler by his side, thanking him for warning him of Pax’s insane plan.

Optimus’ gratitude, and Cybertron’s new glory.

Mesothulas…

_Let me show you how much I appreciate you…_

And Prowl smiled.

And accepted.

And allowed.

It was nice to be appreciated, after all.


End file.
